baby, my baby, it's written on your face, you still wonder, if we made a big mistake
2005-06-12 - 10:31 p.m.

I was watching Oprah the other day, it was an episode about compulsive hoarders. Using the junk to fill a hole in their lives.

I live in mess. You should see my floor, oh, my lovely bedroom floor. I have no desk lamp since my dad swiped it for the bathroom, so every night before I turn off the main light at the door, I have to take a good look at how the mess has decided to spread itself out today and then tread carefully to bed from memory.

Walking a metre and half should not involve so much effort. But anyway, the Oprah show helped me realise it's not just me being lazy.

My name is Babs and I like clutter because I can rely on it to be there for me when I come home.

"Be there for me to trip on" admittedly, but that's more than...


Oh, mind blank. You know when you get up to get things and then suddenly forget what you were getting in the middle of getting it? I have those, but I suddenly forget what I'm thinking. And it's probably not that alarming, but it's been happening ... frequently. At work, when I'm writing uni essays, when I'm internetting ... it just goes and it scares me. I don't want to be sick like mum, and although there's slim to none chance of it happening now, after the forgetful moment it feels like it is ... and that scares me, bigtime.

But in psych we learned that nuns who kept daily journals were much less likely to get it than nuns who didn't, and hey, I'm practically a nun and this is a journal. Coommee onnn.

Oh, now I remember.

It's been a long week, and all my resources are empty. tolerance - empty, restraint - empty, practicality - empty, drive - super empty.

It's strangely relieving, now having to carry none of these heavy things around with me. On the downside, I think work will soon be seeing me quit, and I think uni will soon be seeing me fail.

But I ran out of care on these fronts a long time ago.

I still have a little left. A pinch of care. I'll use it to care for itself, because if I lose it ... I'll lose me; my insides will stop being pretty.

Some things you just know.

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